My friend Jonathan lost his hearing the same season he lost his wife. He chose not to be bitter, because bitterness would mean living a life that wasn’t his.

A Haitian saying from Lynne Twist’s The Soul of Money sent me into a Durham, NC coffee shop with a question. What happens when you ask three strangers to share a snack and a conversation with you? The first Sharing Cake story.

We visited Grandpa Bill at his assisted living community in Dallas. He’s 101 years old, a former Braniff pilot, and still full of adventure. What happened with AI and a stranger’s note brought the whole visit full circle.

A blue lobster, a sea turtle, and a dinner in Costa Rica. What started as a moment of gratitude became a reflection on what it actually means to feel like you've won the lottery in life.

I bought a cacao fruit at a market in Costa Rica. When I opened it up, it was overripe. My first instinct was to take it back. That was fear talking. Then love stepped in and changed my perspective.

On the afternoon of my 49th birthday, I went to a memorial service. What followed was a room full of old friends, tears of sorrow and joy, and a reminder of what actually matters.

A birthday dinner at the Taste of Maine brought back memories of Friday night family rituals and a bookstore where I first decided I wanted to write children’s books. Over 40 years later, at 49, I’m finally chasing that dream.

Two books about wildness, cages, and freedom. One replaces the box with a different box. The other says the butterfly blueprint is already inside you. Purple nail polish, six-foot waves, and the case for living as your whole self.

My wife Becca and I were watching the sun set. Not walking, not talking. Just sitting. Two minutes before it dipped, the cicadas came on. She said, “The cicadas are singing the sun to sleep.” That line opened something I’m still exploring.

It was our last week in Costa Rica. My wife and I were watching the sunset when she challenged something I said about fear. What surprised me was how quickly the dance between love and fear came to life in my own words.

I met a free horse on the beach in Costa Rica. Not tied up. Not behind a fence. Just free. What happened next, and the connections that followed, reminded me that sometimes the best mornings aren't the ones you plan.

223 days ago I launched the Heart-Strong Adventure. One post. One question. One year to follow it. A lot has happened since then. The adventure isn't ending. It's evolving.

Last year I took energy from Costa Rica and brought it home. The flow only went one way. This year I wanted to leave something behind. What happened when I did surprised me.

In Costa Rica, I saw both ends of the surfing spectrum up close. One surfer led with love. The other led with fear. What I noticed had very little to do with surfing.

I've been around water my whole life. This year in Costa Rica, my relationship with surfing changed. It stopped being about catching waves and became something I can only describe as wholeness.

I gave up a table at a coffee shop in Rockledge, Florida. That small choice led to a three-hour conversation about God, fear, love, and choice with three strangers who became friends.

When I left my job at 29 to start a company, the fear that almost kept me from making the leap wasn't failure. It was losing my health insurance. How much creativity and love never enters the world because of a fear-based system?

I emailed Matthew McConaughey. Yes, that Matthew McConaughey. And no, he hasn't responded. But the story of why I sent it is really about what happens when love overrides the fear of looking ridiculous.

A couple months ago I got a text from my friend Sam Harris. It was a simple yes or no question: "Have you ever been inside a prison?" I hadn't. And the fact that I hadn't felt significant.

Every Saturday morning I go to Reverie. It's a coffee shop in Brunswick, Maine. It's my anchor. But Reverie is more than a coffee shop. It's what sociologists call a third place.